


10. Like a boy: Sam treats Ryan to a hell of an evening

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [10]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	10. Like a boy: Sam treats Ryan to a hell of an evening

_**Like a boy: Sam Worthington treats Ryan Kwanten to a hell of an evening**_  
[occurs the day after [Sam and Ryan arrive in Sydney](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/3302.html)]

Leaning against the back of the lift, Sam watches the numbers roll by on the read-out above the door. He's a little later than he'd planned to be, but it couldn't be helped. And either way, Ryan should be waiting for him as ordered. His jeans grow tighter just thinking about it, his cock already starting to fill in anticipation.

Ryan is naked, prepped, and kneeling in the foyer, his hands clasped together at the small of his back. Shoulders relaxed for the time being. He's pretty sure Sam is late, but then, Ryan was early. He's beyond excited by this development. Orders? Like Sam owns him? Amazing, and totally not something he was expecting. Heat rushes through his blood now as he waits, wondering what this means to Sam. Knowing what it means to him.

  
The doors slide open and Sam's breath hitches hard at the sight in front of him. The reality definitely triumphs his imagination and he's already aching as he steps forward, his chest tight and his jeans even tighter.

As soon as he'd heard the elevator ding, Ryan had dropped his gaze and straightened his spine. But when he hears Sam's steps he can't help the smile that spreads across his face, try though he does to bite it back.

"Stand up and bend over the table," Sam orders after a moment just standing there, drinking Ryan in. "Spread yourself open for me."

"Yes, Sir." Ryan moves swiftly, pressing his bare chest to the table. Bracing his legs and reaching back with both hands to spread his cheeks wide, displaying his hole. God, he hasn't done this in so long, and a thrill of fear shoots through him, flash of anxiety that he'll be found wanting.

Sam nods, pleased, but doesn't say anything. He moves behind Ryan, unzips his jeans, pulls out his cock and rubs the head over Ryan's slicked hole.

Ryan exhales, dropping his forehead to rest against the table. He can hardly help the slight hitch backwards, the way his body immediately seeks more. Begging silently.

That's it. Sam's impressed. Except for the slight hitch of his hips, Ryan maintains position. Which means Sam gives him exactly what he wants, pushing slowly but steadily all the way in to the root.

A groan escapes Ryan as Sam fills him, pushing so surely in. Pinning him against the table. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers, breathless already. Clutching Sam's cock deep.

"You're very welcome," Sam grins, sliding one hand along Ryan's back to his nape, fingers circling the back of his neck, pinning him, the hold used for leverage as he pulls out and shoves in again.

Ryan whines and firms up his stance, trying to keep his cock from slamming against the table. There's not much more he can do than just take it. The slick slide of Sam inside him, skin on skin, the power of Sam's grip -- it feels incredible.

Head swimming with the heat of it, with the utter perfection of how good this feels, Sam begins fucking Ryan at a furious pace, driving his cock in with one sharp thrust after another. Using the man beneath him. His body, his hole. All of it opening again and again, welcoming him in, urging him on.

His fingers start to slip, and Ryan spreads his cheeks wider, firming his grip. Fuck, he should have asked for a gag. He's biting his lip where it's already healing, pain flashing clear and bright through him. He doesn't even try to push back anymore, just opens up and lets himself be used.

"I'm gonna come inside you, I'm gonna fill you, and you're _not_ gonna come," Sam growls, the fingers on Ryan's nape going to his hair, grabbing a good handful of it and tugging his head back. "Do you understand me?" Driving into Ryan again and again, so hard his teeth ache with it.

"Yes-- Yes, Sir." Ryan winces, strung so tight he could snap.

"Good," Sam grits out, managing another dozen thrusts, just as hard and as deep as the others, before he comes, cock pulsing hotly, filling Ryan with a low ragged groan.

Now Ryan does rock against him -- he can't help it, grinding back to milk Sam for every last drop. His breath thundering in his chest and every nerve in his body pulled tight as he fights for control, his cock leaking precome.

Cock throbbing again and again in the clench of Ryan's body, Sam rides out every last aftershock, waiting until the final one shudders through his frame before pulling back and out. "Stay there. Right like that," he orders. "Don't move an inch. I mean it."

Ryan's brows snap down but he struggles to obey, his muscles freezing. _Fuck!_ He swallows hard and tries to shut out the world, focusing on controlling his breathing, slowing it down. Calming himself when he just wants to grab Sam and rut against him.

Confident Ryan's going to follow his orders, Sam goes into the bedroom and grabs a couple of things from his bag. New, unused, bought specifically for Ryan. Coming back, he rubs the tip of the fairly large plug over Ryan's come-slicked hole. "This is gonna keep everything inside you," he tells him, not yet pushing it inside. Wanting to see Ryan's reaction first. "So I can add to it later."

That's it, Ryan's breathing is shot all to hell. His eyes widen at the first touch, and he swallows a moan. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, and has to lick dry lips.

"Good boy," Sam grins, slowly pushing it into Ryan, the thought of his come being kept inside him making his cock throb despite its starting to soften.

Ryan whimpers and struggles to hold his position, wanting to rock against the table. "God, thank you Sir," he moans, feeling wet and messy and _full_.

"You're a good boy, you deserve it," Sam says, the praise well-earned with how Ryan's managed to hold on. "You can stand now but you're not to touch me. Not yet."

"Yes, Sir." That part's the biggest struggle of all. Ryan splays his hands on the table and slowly pushes upright, the plug shifting inside him and rubbing just right. He lets out a low moan.

"I have another something for you. If you'd like it?" Sam holds up a black leather cock ring.

Ryan looks at the ring. Looks at Sam. Nods, his heart slamming against his ribs.

Sam smiles and fastens it around Ryan's cock and balls, nice and tight, but not too tight. Just enough that he can wear it for a few hours like this. "Okay?"

Another mute nod. Finding his voice, Ryan asks, "May I kiss you now?" Sam's nearness driving him crazy.

"Yeah, but then I want you to get dressed," Sam says, wondering how Ryan will react to what's coming next. "We're going out for dinner."

At that, Ryan could swear his heart outright stops for a beat. Sam just keeps surprising him. "Yes, Sir," he says, shakier than he'd admit to being. Reaching out, he slips his hand around Sam's nape and steps close, licking into his mouth with a soft moan. Kissing him with pent-up need, his other hand going to cup Sam's ass and jerk him in tight.

Sam kisses back, tongue tangling with Ryan's, the feel of his erection against him making his almost soft cock stir again.

Ryan rubs against him for a few seconds - Sam didn't say not to, right? - the friction on his neglected prick nearly enough to make him cry with need. Then he draws a shuddering breath and forces himself to step back. "You're taking me somewhere nice?" he murmurs, half teasing. Already going through his wardrobe in his mind, trying to figure out what'll hide this raging hard-on.

Christ. Sam licks his lips, his cock throbbing lightly. "Yeah. Fairly nice," he says with a grin. "I don't do fancy."

"Okay." Ryan grins. He loves that about Sam, and he's not looking to change him. His first step yanks his mind to other things, though, as the plug shifts within him again. He's lucky Sam chose a discreet one for him; it'll be tough enough trying to look natural.

After a thorough inventory of what little clothing he's brought with him, Ryan settles on a suit jacket and dress shirt, left untucked over a pair of jeans. Not too fancy, but not too sloppy either. And hanging just long enough to distract from... other things. He goes to the mirror to fix his hair, but decides he couldn't do better than the artless 'just fucked' look if he tried.

Sam uses the washroom and puts his clothes to rights while Ryan's dressing, his thoughts in a jumble. He'd spent the whole day thinking about what he had planned, how Ryan would be waiting for him when he got back, and it had all played out like he'd thought, fantasized, even better actually. Ryan rolls with the punches like he does, able to meet him on a level playing field despite his submissiveness. It's something Sam's always wanted, something he didn't think he'd ever find, something he wasn't even searching for because he'd pretty much accepted it didn't exist.

Ryan comes back from the bedroom and Sam looks up from his phone, smiling. "You look good," he says, holding out his hand and pulling Ryan in close for a kiss.

"Feel pretty good," Ryan admits, licking out at Sam's lips. It's strange but true, hyper-aroused but knowing he's put there and staying there for a Reason with a capital R. "Been a long time since I went out in public like this." He grins. "You might have to cover me."

"Not likely," Sam teases, grinning back. "I want everyone to see how fucking hung my boyfriend is."

Ryan bursts out laughing, and his cheeks flush as he peers down past his shirttails. "We're all set then," he murmurs wryly, checking out the bulge in his jeans. He picked loose ones on purpose, but still. "Lead on," he tells his lover with a kiss, linking their fingers together. Still smiling over that 'boyfriend.'

"By the way," Sam says in the lift, giving Ryan's fingers a squeeze. "If we run into any of my mates, I'm not out to them, so I'll just introduce you as another friend. I assume you're okay with that? I just don't want to offend you in the moment."

"No, of course." Ryan shakes his head, then asks, "But you're out to your parents?" Remembering that Sam said his parents know he's bisexual. "Are they the only ones?"

Sam nods. "Pretty much." He winces a little, not really sure he wants to get into the whole explanation, but this is Ryan. "My dad walked in on me and a mate in high school and he and my mum both flipped out until I reassured them that wasn't my only preference."

Ryan whistles. "That's rough." The lift doors slide open and he lets go of Sam, taking a safe step away for good measure. "Do you think, um." The lobby is peopled, the valet stand hardly more private, and he gives Sam a shrug to let him know the question's still coming. But he waits until they're in the backseat of the limo the production company has provided, privacy screen up, before he continues. "Do you think you could ever be satisfied with just one gender?" he asks curiously, genuinely unable to frame a point of reference. "Or would that be too much like monogamy?"

"Yeah. Definitely," Sam nods, reaching for Ryan's hand again now that they're in the car. "I like women and when I'm attracted to one, I'm really attracted, but I'm way more drawn to men."

"Good to know," Ryan says, caressing Sam's knuckles with his thumb. "Speaking of which," he shifts in his seat - which shifts _everything_ , god help him - "got any idea how drawn to you I am right now?" He grins.

"Why? Cause I have you plugged and ringed and full of my come?" Sam says, making sure the words are murmured against Ryan's ear despite the privacy screen.

Ryan's eyes slip shut and he shivers. "Yeah, pretty much." Is he supposed to be good with words? Not at times like this. He turns his head so his lips just barely brush Sam's jaw. "Want you. Again," he whispers. "I'm so slick you could just slide right in." He clenches around the plug, a shock of lust pulsing through his body.

All blood to his brain having fled south at that, Sam chuckles softly. "You are such a slut," he whispers, sliding their joined hands up the inside of Ryan's leg, fingers teasing over the rigid flesh between his thighs. "And I'd do just that if we were in a Citadel car," he says, not fully trusting the one they're in.

It's a good reminder and just in time, with Ryan ready to climb into Sam's lap as he is. He groans softly, pushing into Sam's touch, tormenting himself. He looks up as the car slows then pulls to a stop in front of a restaurant in an unfamiliar part of the city. "I haven't been here before. Lebanese food?"

Sam nods. "Do you like Middle Eastern cuisine?" he asks, letting the driver open the door for them.

Ryan grins. "I like everything." He tugs his shirt down as he climbs out of the car, and presses his hands to his thighs, a silent reminder to himself to _behave_. "You come here a lot?"

"Whenever I'm in Sydney," Sam says, dismissing the driver for the evening, intending to call for a Citadel car. He pulls open the door to the restaurant, holding it open for Ryan. "I know the owners. Mohammed and his mum Fifi," hence the name of the place, "they're good people and the food is fucking fantastic," he says, keeping his voice low and then grinning widely as an extremely handsome man in his mid-thirties comes forward to greet them, grasping Sam's hands and air-kissing both cheeks. "This is Mohammed. He's the co-owner of the cafe. Mohammed, Ryan." They exchange a few more pleasantries before Sam asks him to seat them towards the back, over in a quiet corner, away from the windows.

Seated, he grins at Ryan, handing over a menu.

When Sam smiles like that, it makes Ryan want to kneel at his feet and rub his cheek against his thigh. With a cough he forces back the image, opening his menu and waiting a second for the words to come into focus. His brain is still elsewhere. He decides quickly, then takes the time to look around and soak up the atmosphere. "I can see already why you like this place," he murmurs, appreciating the feel of it. And the amazing smells coming from the kitchen.

"It's nice and simple," Sam says, looking around as well. "Good food, good prices. Warm and inviting." He shrugs. "What more could you ask for?" He smiles again. "Want to share some baba ganoush and hummus to start?"

"Definitely. And then I was thinking of the shawarma." Ryan drops his voice, checking diffidently that there's no one else in earshot before asking, "You ever handfeed anyone?"

"I have, but not in a long time, and not very often." But the thought of doing that with Ryan... "We'll have to make sure we visit the club while we're here," he says. "Or in London. Have dinner there."

Ryan nods, not meeting Sam's eyes. Acutely conscious of the ring on his cock, the plug in his ass. "Your turn," he says, realizing this is their first time out on a date together. Might as well seize the moment. "Ask me something."

"Okay. Tell me about when you were contracted," Sam says matter-of-factly. "Who he was, how you met him..."

It's not any kind of question Ryan was expecting, and he looks at Sam in surprise. But he nods and takes a deep breath. "All right. His name was Andrew. I met him at a play party here in Sydney. We played together casually for about a year, and he wanted to get serious but I didn't. Just wasn't ready, wanted to keep my options open, all that," Ryan explains. "Eventually, he talked me into it. And... three years." He shrugs and smiles slightly. "Most of it good."

Sam nods. "What happened?" he asks, sitting back for a moment, cursing the timing when the waitress comes to take their order. They order their appetizers, shawarma for Ryan and baked fish in tahini for Sam and a couple of beers.

Ryan watches the waitress walk away before continuing. "He was in real estate. The market went south and he lost his job, and it was right around the time that my career was picking up. And all of a sudden we didn't fuck anymore," he murmurs. "For two months it seemed like we did nothing but fight. I guess his ego just couldn't take it, you know? That I was successful when he was unemployed. When the time came to renew... He told me I could keep my collar if I wanted, because it was mine, but that he needed me to go." Ryan shrugs, then takes another deep breath, surprised at the long-buried flash of pain that sparks through him. "I left the collar."

"I'm sorry," Sam says softly. "Were you in love with him?"

"Yeah. First time I ever felt that way," Ryan answers. The only person he'd felt that way about, until that night in Sam's Citadel room. "That's why I panicked that night," he says, hoping it's all right to bring it up now. "Three years versus three encounters... I wasn't prepared to feel that way again."

Sam nods, and even though they're in public, he reaches across the table to touch his fingers to the back of Ryan's hand. "So what changed your mind?"

"Realized what an idiot I was being," Ryan replies, his heart twisting into a knot at the simple caress, "just flat running from someone so amazing. I didn't think I stood a chance, to be honest. But I had to try."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Sam says quietly, sitting back again as their appetizers arrive with a basket full of warm pita. "It's nice having someone to come home to."

"You do come home with a certain flair," Ryan murmurs, trying not to show just how deeply Sam's words affect him. Already he's starting to wonder what it will be like when they go their separate ways back in Los Angeles, after living in each other's pockets for a month. _Borrowing trouble_. "God, they bake their own pita? This is amazing."

Sam nods. "Taste the baba ganoush," he urges, knowing it's Fifi's own special family recipe.

"All right." Ryan scoops some up on a slice of warm pita and moans happily at his first bite. "That is good," he agrees, reaching for more. "Is everything here going to be that good?"

"Yup." Sam grins. "So... do you have more questions for me or is it my turn again?" he asks, layering hummus on top of ganoush and tearing off a piece to pop into his mouth.

"Mmm." Ryan takes a swallow of his beer. "Tell me about your biggest kink. Why it's foolproof."

Sam chuckles, ducking his head a little and clearing his mouth before he answers, his voice kept real low. "Extreme anal play. CBT's a _really_ close second but fisting, forcing a boy to take bigger and bigger plugs, dildos, anything else I can come up with, double penetration... all of it." He grins, shifting in his seat. "You could say I'm anally fixated."

Christ, like _that_ doesn't get Ryan squirming. He rubs his lips but can't quite manage to wipe away a grin. "Anything else you can come up with, huh?" He already has reasons not to doubt Sam's ingenuity. He meets Sam's gaze, his eyes sparkling.

Sam nods, his grin widening. "And you? I'm assuming blood, but what's second?"

"After blood?" Ryan thinks for a second. "I love a good spanking," he says, loading up a last piece of pita. "Hands-on. I mean, paddles and all are great, but skin on skin -- that's just so hot."

"Yeah." Sam shifts again, almost grateful when their food arrives. "My turn again, since my last question was just turning yours around. How long have you known you were gay?"

"Since I was fifteen. I had sex with nine different girls that summer, and not one of them turned me on like watching my teammates in the shower." Ryan frowns in memory. "It sucked. I was able to hide it, but... well, that sucked too." He digs into his meal, scooping rice and vegetables together with seasoned lamb. "Then when I was seventeen I went away to Melbourne to work for a couple months, and I finally hooked up with a guy."

Sam digs into his fish, groaning at the first bite. "And the kink? Was that the boxing thing you told me about or did that come up earlier too?"

"The boxing thing," Ryan nods. "Up until that point - and after, really - I just thought I liked it rough, and I was still learning that not every guy did. But I'd always played rough, in all the athletics I'd done, so it just seemed to me to fit. I didn't realize right off that I was different that way." He pushes his plate across the table. "Have you had this? You've got to try this."

"No, I haven't," Sam says, pushing his own plate forward for Ryan to try. "You should have some of this too." He takes a bite of the shawarma. "Mm. God. You're gonna make it even harder for me to choose the next time I come here." He grins.

"You might have to make it two visits, next trip," Ryan says with a smile, flaking a bite of fish onto his fork. It nearly melts in his mouth. "Now I understand why this is Fifi's place." He grins, watching Sam take obvious animal pleasure in his food. "Now my question, which I might need a second beer for, what about you? Not straight, not vanilla... when did you figure those things out?"

Sam waves at the waitress, motioning for another round of drinks. "Let's see. Not straight, when I was ten and my twelve-year-old cousin came to stay with us for a couple of weeks - we spent most of our time 'experimenting'. And not vanilla, pretty much the same summer," lowering his voice even more, a quick glance around to make sure no one's listening, "When it only made me harder to hear him cry out or bite his knuckles to keep from whimpering too loudly."

Ryan listens closely, sipping at his beer. Trying to picture such a young Sam. "You sound like you must have been a very formidable 10 year-old," he murmurs with a smile.

Sam laughs. "I don't think I would've been doing anything at ten if it weren't for my cousin. He was the experienced one - his older brother," he explains with a light shrug. "The next time I played with a guy I was fourteen and I was fifteen before I lost my virginity with a girl."

Ryan nods understanding. "So, in that long journey from then to here, with all its twists and turns... did you ever submit?"

"Oh now you're getting serious with the questions," Sam teases, grateful for the second round of beer that appears right then. He takes a long drink, fiddling with his fork, before answering. "I have. I'm not sure it fits anyone else's definition of submitting but there have been those people, those times, where I felt like I wasn't the one in control - where I wanted that."

A moment, and then Ryan leans in close. "I'll tell you something," he murmurs. "If I weren't already hard, I would be just picturing that." As it is, his cock is a throbbing weight inside his jeans.

"Which leads to _my_ next question," Sam murmurs, eyes locked on Ryan's. "How would you feel about fucking me?"

Ryan's eyes widen. "I'd... feel..." he swallows. "Yeah, I'd feel great about that." Christ, what an understatement. Thank god Sam put him in this cock ring, or he'd embarrass himself in the middle of the restaurant. "You'd want that?"

"Sometimes," Sam nods, watching Ryan closely. "Would you need me to order you to, or to still be in control, or would you be good with me just telling you I wanted that?"

He could just go with his first instinct and answer, but Ryan gives the question careful thought instead. "You could just tell me," he says, nodding. "I mean, you haven't told me yet that I've crossed a line with you, but I trust you that you would. If I went too far. Got too pushy," he grins.

"Yeah, I would," Sam says, unable to keep from grinning. Christ. He's pretty sure that ticky box isn't on the list for average folk but it's a huge one for him. Something else he'd pretty much given up on finding. "Your turn. You want dessert?"

"What?" It takes Ryan a couple of seconds to yank his mind back on track and get clear that yeah, Sam's actually talking literally about _dessert_. "Shit. Um, I mean yes. Yes I do." _Fuck_. He laughs softly at himself.

Sam's grin widens. "You like baklava?"

Sweet sticky pastry he always ends up licking off his fingers... "You sure you don't want it to go?"

Sam shakes his head. "Lebanese coffee doesn't taste as good to go," he says, already waving over their waitress. "Besides, I haven't finished tormenting you here."

Ryan ducks his head, laughing. If this is torment, he'll take it. ''All right. Sir,'' he murmurs, and it's on his lips to ask another question but he waits until Sam has ordered their coffee and baklava and the waitress has left once more. ''Tell me about your first time with a guy. Was it when you got caught?''

"No, thank god," Sam laughs. "That might have scared me straight," he jokes. "No. We used to go camping every summer. My parents had this place they really liked a couple hours away and I used to run wild with whoever else was there, and there was this older guy. His parents went into town and we ended up alone in his camper..."

Immediately Ryan's brain starts filling in the details. Hot weather, two sweaty eager boys keeping big secrets... ''How old were you?''

"Fourteen."

''You sexy thing,'' Ryan grins. ''Fueling my ageplay fantasies.''

Shit. _That_ certainly makes Sam's cock sit up and take notice. "I thought you didn't like roleplaying?"

''I said I'm no good at it,'' Ryan clarifies. ''Still like thinking about it.''

"So it's just a wank fantasy?" Sam says, slightly disappointed, but he guesses there has to be something they don't mesh on.

''Hey.'' Ryan leans across the table in mock offense. ''There's no such thing as _just_ a wank fantasy. Not if it's a good one.'' He looks Sam over, and his cock gives a throb of frustrated lust.

Sam laughs. "True," he says, grinning widely, smiling at their waitress as she delivers their coffee and dessert, waiting until she's gone to continue. "My turn. Have you been fisted?"

''Yes,'' Ryan answers, thinking back to Sam's reply of earlier. ''But not in years.'' He grins.

"Yeah?" Fuck. Sam shifts again. Which reminds him... "Hold on. That question has a part B and C to it," he says, pulling his phone from his pocket and calling Citadel for a car in roughly twenty minutes. "B, how deep and C, ever take two?"

Ryan shivers, full-body. Trust Sam to ask. ''B, elbow. C, are you fucking serious?'' He knows Sam is.

Sam just grins over his coffee cup.

Suddenly the plug that's filling Ryan's ass seems absolutely tiny. ''I... we'll have to try that,'' he says slowly. Like he'd say no. The way his curiosity eats at him, he'll probably be begging Sam for it before the month is out. ''Do I need to make a list? All the shit I need you to do to me?''

Normally Sam's not much for lists, but... "Yeah. I think I'd like you to do that," he says, wondering if he'd ever come to an end of the things he wants to do to Ryan. "Send me an email with it or make a locked post - so I have something to keep me occupied during these meetings."

Ryan laughs. ''I'll write it with that in mind then, you know I will. Thinking about you reading it in front of all those stuffed shirts. Trying to get you hard.''

Sam grins. "Speaking of which, I think you're gonna have to cover _me_ when we leave here."

''Yeah?'' Ryan takes a decadent bite of baklava, then slowly licks his fingers. ''But I want people to see how well-hung _my_ boyfriend is.''

Sam cracks up. "I guess I deserve that," he says, smiling and shaking his head. "Brat," he murmurs with undisguised affection, watching Ryan's tongue swirl around his fingers.

''Yeah,'' Ryan whispers absently, lost for a moment in the look on Sam's face. _Wrong time..._ Picking up his beer, he drains the last of it. ''One last question. Ready to go?''

"Definitely." Sam waves for the check and hands over his credit card the moment it comes. He signs the bill with his signature scrawl, leaving a healthy tip for the waitress then follows Ryan to the front door, hugging and kissing Mohammed on the way out with a promise to stop by again, soon. The car is already waiting for them outside, the driver nodding and opening the door, and he slides in behind Ryan after giving him orders to drive around until they're ready to head back.

Now that sounds promising. Ryan doesn't waste any time -- the second the door shuts he climbs into Sam's lap, attacking his mouth.

"Someone's eager," Sam teases, kissing back, hard and furious, their teeth clashing, tongues tangling, his cock so fucking hard between them it actually _aches_.

''Always,'' Ryan promises, slipping his hands beneath Sam's shirt, scraping nails over his chest. ''But especially now.''

"Good," Sam murmurs, his eyes gone dark with lust. "But I want you here," patting the seat beside him. "Naked. Hands and knees, ass in the air, high as you can get it." His smile turning wicked. "Don't want a drop wasted."

Ryan groans, and his clothes start flying. He's naked in record time considering the setting, moaning when his ringed prick is free of his jeans. Down on his hands and he presents, cool air tickling his ass around the plug. Tense and breathless.

Sam kneels up behind him, his own jeans unzipped, aching cock freed. Twists the plug slowly out of Ryan's body, setting it aside on a couple of tissues for reinsertion later. "Look at that," he breathes, pushing one finger into Ryan, rimming it around his gaping come-slicked hole. "So fucking ready for me."

It's nowhere close to enough, not after the last couple hours, but Ryan tries to fuck himself on Sam's finger anyway, desperate for him. "Sir," he grits out, dropping to his forearms to get his ass higher in the air, "please fuck me!"

Sam contemplates making Ryan wait, but only for a second. Why deny them both what they want? Cock replaces finger with one sharp thrust and Sam grips Ryan's hips, fingers digging into his skin as he starts riding him, laying down a brutal rhythm with no room for adjustment.

Ryan shouts, clawing at the seat. And he damn fucking near comes, the ring the only thing that stops him. A couple seconds for his head to stop swimming and then he shoves back, pumping against Sam, meeting every thrust. Daring Sam to use his body harder.

Harder and harder Sam drives in, the knowledge that Ryan can take it spurring him on. It feels incredible. Amazing. Fucking brilliant. Holding back nothing, Ryan meeting and matching every fucking thrust.

Lust coils tight around the base of Ryan's spine until he feels like he's going to explode with it, the ache of before a mere shadow now. He bears down on Sam to make things even tighter. "Sir, please!" he yells, barely able to catch his breath, "please let me come!"

"No," Sam growls, shaking his head, shoving in once more before _he_ comes, hard and thick and heavy, adding to the mess he's already made inside Ryan.

 _Fuck me motherfucker!_ Ryan only just manages to keep from shouting the words. He clamps down, milking Sam for every last drop, his entire body shaking with the need to come even through the cock ring. "Fuck, fuck," he whispers, still rocking against his lover.

Yeah. Sam's grinning like a fool, aftershocks rippling through him, thoroughly enjoying the desperate need he can feel coursing through Ryan. "That's two," he says, running his hands over Ryan's hips, fingers spreading Ryan's cheeks, watching as he pulls out, his come visible inside his hole. "So fucking dirty." And such a fucking turn-on. Christ. He licks his lips, tucking himself back into his jeans, and picks up the plug, pushing it home and sealing Ryan tight with one hard twist.

"Oh, Jesus." Ryan's not so quick to get up this time. His head hangs down between his arms, chest heaving as he tries to get himself back under control. Dizzy with need. Finally he turns over and sprawls on the seat next to Sam, peering at him sidelong. "Yeah. You should look smug."

Sam laughs. "Told you I had plans involving you and a window," he murmurs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Me, a window, and anyone on the harbour who cares to look up? Christ." Ryan chuckles. He lifts Sam's hand to his mouth and licks at his fingers, beginning to suck. Still waiting for his heart to slow back to normal.

Sam's cock throbs in his jeans and he groans softly, watching Ryan. "It's night time," he says with a shrug, unable to stop grinning. "And I'll turn off the lights." Not that that'll make things much better. Anyone actually looking will still be able to see Ryan.

Ryan nips at Sam's fingertip. ''You gonna let me make a mess on the window?'' The burning question.

Sam doesn't answer right away, letting the anticipation, the tension build. "Yeah. But don't think I'm not gonna push you more before I do."

The promise is good enough for Ryan. ''Counting on it,'' he says, holding Sam's gaze as he continues to lick his fingers. Still with all that pent-up sexual energy to burn off.

"Do I still have honey on my fingers?" Sam asks, cock struggling to get hard again before it's even gone soft.

Ryan laughs, seeking a last faint trace of the baklava. ''Do you need me to need an excuse?'' he teases. Although he's certainly not doing his own arousal any favors, his cock hard and red in its ring. With a sigh he releases Sam and contemplates his discarded clothing. It's a pity they're not staying in a Citadel facility, where he could just stay naked.

"No." Sam grins, feeling surprisingly disappointed when Ryan lets go of his hand. "But you'd better get dressed," he says, rapping on the privacy screen. "Won't take too long for us to get back."

''Yeah, yeah.'' Ryan grins briefly, then drags on his jeans with a hiss, carefully stuffing himself back into them. They'd seemed so loose, once... Fully dressed again, he attempts to smooth his hair then gives it up for a lost cause, deciding to use their last few minutes in the car to grab Sam and kiss him with all the hunger he feels.

By the time they reach the North Tower, Sam feels both bruised and claimed and he's not complaining one damn bit about either. He thanks the driver, slipping him a few extra bills and pushes Ryan into the building, hand at the small of his back. "When we get upstairs, I want you naked again. Want to watch you crawl into the living room," he whispers in his ear, smiling and nodding at the concierge, "and I want you to stop in front of the window, spread your legs as wide as you can get them and present your ass to me."

A bare nod in reply, but Ryan's thoughts are whirling. It's the first time Sam has ordered Ryan to crawl for him, and every time he does something like this Ryan feels more owned. More Sam's boy, though they never discuss it. Now he slips his suit jacket off in the lift up, tense and ready the second Sam swings open the penthouse door. It's a relief to be naked once again, but Ryan's focus is on his crawling, wanting to make it good. He prowls slowly across the living room, athletic grace making up for being out of practice -- he hopes, anyway. But when he gets to the massive floor-to-ceiling window he pauses, needing to take a moment to gather himself before he gets to his feet. The lights of Sydney twinkle up at Ryan as he spreads his thighs, splaying his hands on the glass and pushing his ass back. Plugged and vulnerable.

Ryan looks incredible, naked and framed against the night city skyline. Sam takes his time, lingers while undressing, his clothes draped over the back of the sofa. He's hard again, feeling like a teenager, his body responding so eagerly to Ryan. The way he looks, smells, feels... everything about him. "Good boy," Sam murmurs, moving behind him, running his hands up and down Ryan's arms. "So beautiful," he whispers, moving lower, over his chest, sides, hips, fingers spreading his cheeks again, teasing over the base of the plug before he moves on, trailing under, over his balls, down his thighs, the backs of his legs.

The caresses light Ryan on fire. Every touch ratcheting up the tension in his body, the throbbing ache of his cock. Until his heart is racing, his breath thundering in his ears.

Sam presses closer, one hand moving between them to twist out the plug, his cock shoved in, replacing it in an instant. The tight slick heat of Ryan's body drawing a low ragged groan from his lips. He lays his hands over Ryan's, linking their fingers. Starts moving, thrusting, slowly, his teeth grazing along Ryan's shoulders as he pushes into him, his strokes long and hard and deep.

Ryan sighs out a breath, rocking with the force of Sam's thrusts. He feels dirty in the best of ways, filled and thoroughly claimed. _Yours_. The word echoes in his head, an ache rising in his chest. Opening his eyes he looks out at the city, the view surreal -- like this moment is the only thing that truly exists.

"You feel so good," Sam murmurs, biting at Ryan's shoulders, his teeth sinking deeper as his thrusts roughen, picking up speed. Stunned that a third time within hours can feel like it's the first. That skin upon skin, his own come slicking the path, can be so fucking brilliant. Everything he'd imagined.

Hell yeah, Ryan's eyes are damn near rolling back in his head. He moans as Sam bites him again, melting against him. Starting to buck faster, harder. "Sir," he gasps out, clamping down around Sam's cock. "God, Sir, yes."

"You're gonna wait for me, aren't you?" Sam growls softly, one hand dropping to the cock ring. "Even after I take this off, right?" Biting harder, almost enough to break the skin. Close, so close. Cock buried in Ryan again and again. "For permission."

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ Just the tease of Sam's hand on the ring is already enough to set him on edge -- now he clamps down, tightening every muscle in his body. _Willing_ himself to keep it together. ''Y-yes, Sir,'' he stammers, drawing his focus inward. Best he can when _oh god_ Sam is fucking him like this.

"Good." Sam grins, thrusting in still harder, deeper, his hips starting to stutter as that coil unleashes and he unsnaps the ring, coming hard, so fucking hard, flooding Ryan's hole for the third time.

Ryan howls, plastering himself against the window. He's torn between milking Sam's cock to the end, and distancing himself as much as he can from all sensation. Before he loses his bloody mind. ''Sir,'' he begs raggedly, ''Please!''

"Yeah," Sam nods, wrapping his hand around Ryan's cock even though he knows he doesn't need it. "Come for me, boy."

Those magic words, that welcoming touch -- Ryan ruts once into Sam's hand and explodes with a sob, all the coiled controlled lust of the day finally unleashed all at once. He slumps forward against the window, every breath searing his lungs. Leaking and dirty and so fucking full.

"That's it. Good boy," Sam murmurs, groaning as Ryan clenches tight around him, come spattering the window in front of them, working every last drop from Ryan's cock, his own still throbbing inside him, the last of the aftershocks slow in dying away. "So fucking good for me."

Ryan tips his head to rest against the glass, and reaches back to wrap Sam's arm around his middle. ''You might have to carry me,'' he murmurs. ''Think my knees are melted.''

"I don't know about carrying unless you mean a fireman's hold," Sam says, "but I can help you to bed," he adds with a smile, kissing the back of Ryan's neck and then slowly easing out. "Although... shower maybe? Bath?"

Turning in the circle of Sam's arms, Ryan considers. ''Bath,'' he decides, breathing a kiss over Sam's lips. ''I'll let you take care of me.''

"You certainly deserve it," Sam says, helping Ryan down the hall and into the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his shoulders for the time it takes to get the tub full of hot water and the jets going. "Here," he says, motioning for Ryan to get in. "Come sit between my legs."

The towel wards off the worst of Ryan's shivers. The bath is just in time for the rest. He steps in, moaning a little at the luxuriant feel of the water, and settles himself between Sam's thighs, back against his chest. "This is good," he whispers, resting his head on Sam's shoulder, letting every last bit of tension flow from his muscles until he feels limp as a ragdoll. "I'm washing you away, though," he teases. "You know you'll have to fill me up again tomorrow."

"Not again?" Sam teases back, sighing dramatically. "Such hardship."

''Warned you I was demanding.'' Not right now, though. Right now Ryan is completely melted in Sam's arms.

Sam laughs. "Yeah, you did, and I like you that way," he says, smiling, unable to stop. He always enjoys life. His life. Has had nothing but good things coming to him for the last couple years. But right here, right now, he's the happiest he remembers being in a really long time. "I'm glad you came with me."

"Yeah? Good." Ryan cranes his neck to press a kiss to Sam's lips. "I am too. So far it's been totally worth my time," he adds with a sly smile.

"Good. I'd hate to think I was disappointing you," Sam chuckles, kissing Ryan again, his lips soft and warm.  



End file.
